


In Time

by jake_is_my_name



Series: Lessons with Mr. Morozov (just don't stand too close) [1]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 10:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1507625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jake_is_my_name/pseuds/jake_is_my_name
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four years of Javier's life, in the span of a few pages. The people he gains, the things he loses, and the fears he has to leave behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Grasp_a_dream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grasp_a_dream/gifts).



> I know Euros is after Nats, but the great thing about writing fiction is that you can change reality however you want it to fit the story! Like how you can write a story about Javi and Yuzu boning each other, even if they can't stand each other in real life. (I hope not, but honestly you never know.)

He remembers screaming well into the middle of the night, hissed accusations and threats between them, storming out of yet another beige, featureless hotel room. And of course he had to crawl back, he had to, because where else could he go? He was nineteen, in the middle of Moscow, in the middle of Daugavpils, in the middle of who knows whatever god-forsaken city they were in now, where he didn’t know anybody and couldn’t speak the language. Where else could he go?

He doesn’t know if he can make a living without Nikolai in this world, but he knows that he can’t live like this much longer. The next morning, he stands in front of Nikolai, suitcase in hand. “I’m leaving.”

It sears into his memory, the disdainful glance that Nikolai barely musters up the strength to give him. “You’ll come back,” he says dismissively, flicking his cigarette. “They always do.”

**

He reminds himself of that every morning he laces up his skates. _You’ll come back_ , Nikolai’s sneer, the crushing weight of his indifference, the smell of ash in that suffocating hotel room.

“Javi, ready for warm-ups?” Brian asks.

“Yeah, just give me a minute,” Javier says.

**

Brian is older than Nikolai, even a little older than his father. Javier doesn’t know all of Brian’s story – he’s only heard bits and pieces of it through other skaters, and who knows if any of those are true – but maybe it’s those years of triumphs and mistakes and regrets that have made Brian an utterly honest man. When Brian wants to tell Javier something, he tells him, kind and direct, and when he claps him on the shoulder or hugs him after a good program, it doesn’t feel like there are secrets behind it, like he is saying something more than the words coming out of his mouth.

**

It’s inevitable. He sees Nikolai at the next Europeans, Florent in tow.

He and Florent are in the same warm-up group. He skates back to the boards at the three minute mark, takes a swig of water and checks in with Brian. Nikolai is about twenty feet away from them, standing at the boards with his arms crossed, back straight, chin up, his profile as imperial as ever.

Javier isn’t a naturally apprehensive person, but the back of his neck feels clammy as he nears. He could turn around, admit his fear, but he lets his skates take him in their natural direction. “Nikolai…” He puts forth his hand. “No hard feelings, right?”

Nikolai starts to applaud, his eyes fastened to Florent’s form. He shouts compliments in Russian.

Javier skates away, hears himself laughing it off. He wonders if it sounds happy.

It’s not the worst skate of Javier’s life, but it’s close. He nearly runs into the boards on his quad toe, singles his axels, and turns out on what seems like every jump afterwards. He feels scrambled inside, and he knows he’s not doing a good job of hiding it.

He ends up sixth. Florent wins the bronze.

**

“You’re just like a child,” Nikolai told him once. “You always want my attention. Well, what have you done to earn it?”

**

He meets Yuzuru the summer after. He doesn’t know if it’s love, but he forgets. In place of old fears are giddy grins and enthusiastic embraces, young declarations full of conviction, the sound of their voices blending together in laughter.

“I grow stronger with you,” Yuzuru whispers to him, one night in bed. He laces their fingers together. “For you.”

It might be the strangest, most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, he thinks, his lover’s warmth pooling leisurely next to him under their blanket, time forgotten in slow breaths and kisses, their cheeks pressed against the pillows and Yuzuru’s dark eyes contemplating their hands. It’s strange to think that things have been this way for months now, that a dream could last this long, and it’s frightening to hope that they can still be this way in the future. Javier can’t speak for the lump in his throat, but he brings their hands to his mouth and kisses Yuzuru’s fingers. 

**

He goes into the next Europeans having beaten Patrick Chan that season, having the highest free skate score in the Grand Prix Final. He’s got the most technical content coming into this competition, and everybody knows it by now.

He wins handily, by over twenty points. If Nikolai ever looks at him, he doesn’t notice.

He hugs Florent just before the medal ceremony. Florent’s eyes shift warily as Javier lets him go. “You should talk to him, you know,” Florent whispers. “He… he’s different.”

Javier just shakes his head.

Despite the things he said at the time, he doesn’t blame Florent. They were words born of an immediate hurt, a wound still smarting. He knows now that they were just pieces pit against each other in Nikolai’s game. Maybe Nikolai meant it as a motivation tactic, maybe it was just another cruel act in a life of thoughtlessly cruel actions – but whatever it was, Javier isn’t playing anymore. 

Sometimes, in the odd moment of silence, he thinks of Nikolai as a shooting star, one with a neverending trajectory. A force that just can’t stop moving, flashing the occasional brilliance, and everyone else is just a dark body chasing the light of that empty promise, that unfulfilled wish, jostling against each other as they try to stay in his orbit. 

But Javier’s settled down. He’s found a place he wants to stay, and he doesn’t need to chase anymore.

**

Their flight back to Toronto arrives near midnight. Brian waves him goodbye, tells him _I’m so proud of you_ again and _sleep in tomorrow, you’ve more than earned it_. Javier hugs him, tightly and probably longer than most students would hug their coaches. He calls a cab home.

Javier enters the apartment and doesn’t turn on the light. He puts down his suitcase, lets his backpack fall from his shoulders, and slips into their bedroom. He tiptoes across the carpet, quietly lifts the covers, and slides into bed.

It doesn’t work. Yuzuru rolls over in bed and attaches himself to Javier, one arm across his waist, the other curling under his neck. “ _Felicidades_ ,” Yuzuru whispers in his badly pronounced but highly practiced Spanish, pressing a kiss onto Javier’s chin.

Javier accepts the kiss, and returns one on Yuzuru’s forehead. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“No. Couldn’t sleep until you were next to me.”

“Wow. You must be very tired, then. Awake for seven days straight.”

“You know what I mean.” Yuzuru yawns, curls up closer. “I watched you every day. I was jumping up and down like an idiot when your scores came up.”

“Mm.” Javier smiles at the image. “You’ll get the same in Sapporo?”

“I will. It’s your turn to sit at home and watch me.” Javier can feel the smirk in his skin. “Daddy will bring home the bacon to you.”

Javier groans and presses his face into Yuzuru’s shoulder. “You need to stop watching those awful movies.”

“Hey! I learn so much English watching those awful movies.”

“Fine. But stop quoting from them.”

Javier imagines Yuzuru’s pout in the dark. “Why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Yuzu.”

“It’s embarrassing? Says the person who goes out and skates around in a cape and gym shorts?”

“That’s different. That’s _endearingly_ embarrassing.”

“And I am not endearing?”

“Of course you are,” Javier says. He pecks Yuzuru’s nose. “Because everything you do is endearing to me. But if I weren’t hopelessly in love with you, I would think it’s embarrassing.”

Javier pauses, as he realizes what he’s just said aloud, something he hasn’t even realized for himself yet. But Yuzuru doesn’t need to pause or think about anything; he just laughs along in the conversation, as if he’s known all along, as if Javier just told him that the sky was blue, like it was an obvious truth that has existed since the universe began. 

Yuzuru tugs on Javier’s hair. “What if I win Nationals?” he says, smiling. “Then I should get to quote those movies to you until Worlds.”

“I don’t want to take that bet,” Javier replies. 

But of course he takes that bet, because it’s Yuzuru. And of course Javier spends the next two months hearing things like “Put on the eggs, mama,” and “We can’t let one monkey stop the show,” and he thinks that it’s really, really a good thing that he loves Yuzuru.

**

And then Worlds happens.

He and Yuzuru have a rule between them, that they don’t flirt and they don’t get distracted during competitions, and of course they never follow it. But they try, and that’s what counts.

Javier is currently trying backstage, keeping to his informally assigned area. He stretches, shakes himself as he waits, trying to keeping his body loose. 

He hears someone coming up behind him. There’s a warm hand on his shoulder, and he smiles and turns -

It’s Nikolai.

Javier stills. Nikolai smiles, pinching the cords in his shoulder.

Nikolai has never been overly touchy with him, not the way he usually is with his female students, not the way he was with Florent, Daisuke - skaters who have won something under him, skaters whose pictures would be in a newspaper the day after. The most he’s gotten are pats on the knee that were maybe a little too high, and Javier has never encouraged it, never reciprocated, never done anything but kept his eyes on the scoreboard in those moments. He’s never wanted that kind of attention from Nikolai, not that it ever mattered to him.

There have been times he’s wondered if he would have gotten more from Nikolai as a coach, if he had wanted that kind of attention.

“You’re tense,” Nikolai remarks, still rubbing Javier’s shoulder. “Is it the competition? Or me?”

“It’s not anything.” Javier steps back. Nikolai lets his hand fall. “I’m not tense.”

“Sure, you’re not.” Nikolai leans against the wall. “Relax. You won’t do very well if you keep this up.”

Javier draws in a breath between his teeth. “What are you doing here?”

“Dance. And Alena.”

That’s not what Javier means, and he knows that Nikolai knows it. But he plays along for now. “And Florent, of course.”

Nikolai pauses briefly - and yes, Javier thinks, remembering what Florent said. That is new. Nikolai has never been the sort of man to hesitate.

“Is that the only thing you can think about? Florent?” Nikolai finally says. “He and I aren’t working together anymore. He was getting tired of traveling, and I was getting tired of him complaining about it. It worked out for both of us.”

Javier wonders - how is it that Nikolai can look so casual, sound so indifferent even when asking for something?

“You know, your quad sal looks shaky this season,” Nikolai says. “It doesn’t look as good as when you first learned it. You’re letting my technique get away from you.” He circles behind Javier, one hand grasping his arm and the other flat on his back. “You’re turning your shoulders too soon –”

“I’m sorry,” Javier finally says, shrugging off Nikolai’s hands. “But I didn’t say you could touch me.”

“Javi?”

Javier looks up. Yuzuru’s there in costume, looking unsure of himself, and that is an unfamiliar enough sight to startle Javier.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Yuzuru says. His eyes dart over at Nikolai. “Brian’s looking for you. He’s rinkside.”

“Thanks,” Javier nods, and he passes Nikolai by without another look.

“Javier.” Nikolai's call is as sharp as ever. “You didn’t forget?”

Javier pauses, but he doesn’t turn around. “No, I didn’t forget,” he says. “I just think you’re wrong.”

Yuzuru follows him out of the hallway. He can feel Yuzuru’s eyes on him, can hear the unasked questions - but he thankfully keeps quiet as they make their way out to the rink, ready for the competition to begin. 

**

Javier’s changing into his sleep clothes. Yuzuru is already lying in bed, hands tucked under his head. He turns his head slightly. “Javi?” 

“Hm?”

“Mr. Morozov was your coach before, wasn’t he?”

Javier focuses on folding his shirt. “Mm-hm.”

Yuzuru looks back at the ceiling. “Shizuka-senshu tells stories about him, sometimes,” he says. “So does Miki-senshu. But her stories are very different from Shizuka-senshu’s.”

Javier sighs. “I don’t really want to hear Miki’s sex stories, Yuzuru.”

“I did not say it was those kinds of stories.” Yuzuru’s gaze flickers over to Javier. “But it’s interesting that’s the first thing you think of.”

Javier puts down his shirt. “ _Really?_ ” he says, and he doesn’t quite manage to keep that one errant note of irritation out of his voice. “No, I have never slept with Nikolai, nor have I ever wanted to.”

“I don’t doubt you.” Yuzuru returns his gaze to the ceiling. “Has _he_ wanted to?”

Javier closes the drawer of his dresser. “Does it matter?”

“No,” Yuzuru replies. “It just helps me decide how much I should dislike him.”

“Well, you should dislike him a lot, but it shouldn’t have anything to do with me.”

Yuzuru smiles softly. “It has everything to do with you,” he says. “It always does.”

Javier catches Yuzuru’s reflection in the dresser mirror. There’s a moment of utter silence between them, as Javier turns to face him.

Javier draws a deep breath, and he makes his way over and slides under the covers next to Yuzuru, the two mirroring each other in repose. “Well, you have nothing to worry about from Nikolai Morozov,” he says, leaning in for a kiss on the temple. “Our relationship was strictly prof… well, it never went beyond teacher and student.”

“But?”

“But what? I just needed to leave.” Javier shrugs. “I was tired of being ignored. I was tired of being a constant disappointment.”

Javier sees Yuzuru’s jaw tighten, and he pulls Yuzuru closer to him. “Look, I was over it a long time ago. It’s all right.”

“It’s not all right.” Yuzuru lets out a long, measured breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Really, Yuzu –”

“I’m sorry for the way he made you feel,” Yuzuru continues. “I don’t understand why anybody would treat you as less than what you are. I don’t understand how anybody could look anywhere else when you’re in the room.” He presses his face into Javier’s neck. “I wish I could go back and change things for you. I wish I could make it better.”

“How would you change things, Yuzuru? So that he’d actually pay attention to me once in a while? If he did that, I might never have left, and I might not be here next to you right now.” Javier exhales deeply. “Whatever happened in the past… that’s what happened. Talking about it won’t change anything, and nothing can really make it better. Nothing but what I already did.” He shifts down, presses his lips against the skin of Yuzuru’s throat, and sighs. “I mean, look at me. I’ve been pretty lucky. I’m one of the best skaters in the world right now, I have amazing people around me who all support me, and I’m in bed with the person I love the most, who I have mindblowing sex with.” He reaches forward, combing his fingers through Yuzuru’s hair. “I’d say that’s pretty good revenge, right?”

Yuzuru slips a hand around Javier’s waist, pulling him back up. “The best,” he says, his breath an old friend brushing across Javier’s ear, his tongue darting out to wet a spot of skin. “In fact, you should probably get some more revenge on him. Right now.”

Javier smiles.

**

Javier reads in the news that Florent is considering going back to Nikolai for the Olympics. “I would welcome him with open arms,” reads Nikolai’s quote, and Javier snorts and leaves the paper by the side of the bed.

Nikolai is a man who is always changing his mind about what he wants. But Javier is a man who already has what he wants, and he’s brave enough now to stay, to try and keep it. He looks at Yuzuru in slumber, his lover’s palm resting gently against his own, and he squeezes.


End file.
